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Suffering is, curiously, both immediate and relative. Alinor's maids, who had long bewailed their mistress' dull quiescence because it laid a weight upon their spirits, now had cause to look back to that period with longing. After she emerged from her long conference with Father Francis, the maids found their mistress had become far too lively. Nothing, however it was done, was done aright. Sharp slaps and venomous remarks drove the women from one task to another for three interminable days. |
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In the field, the men serving Ian were having a very similar experience. At first they thought their lord's bad temper was owing to their inability to lay the outlaws by the heels. There had been two minor clashes, but the reavers withdrew hastily as soon as they realized the farms they had attacked were defended by trained men-at-arms rather than serfs with cudgels. Ian's men had not pursued them farther than the borders of Alinor's land, according to their instructions. The men were well content with the results of their efforts. Not a single chicken or bag of flour or any other item had been lost to the outlaws. |
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They were puzzled by the lord's dissatisfaction, but a few finally thought far enough ahead to point out to the others that the lord desired to destroy the band. If he did not, they would have to sit here on the border forever. Even if the reavers raided elsewhere for a time, they would return as soon as they discovered Roselynde lands were unguarded again. Having got that far, it seemed reasonable that Lord Ian should be impatient |
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